The streets of our nuncan neighborhoods take prisoners
they break the one who does not resist, whether local or foreign
And patience does not exist with those who are foolish
Each victim is guilty, if he fell for treacherous.
What happened to those handsome men who boasted with their lives
they ended up honoring the honor of our corner
not even the nickname, survives on the avenue
his fangs, collar and watchband were removed.
These streets are pages that are taken with the years
written in a language that strangers do not understand
we were born of many mothers but here there are only brothers
in my calleeeeeeee. . .
life and death dance with beer in hand
I am from here of those who survived
I am from here . . .
I am that pretty little corner blessed, of those who never left
I am from there of those who survived
of those who facing adversity
they took wound and blow in quantity and did not surrender
I am from there of those who survived
eating white rice with porck and beans
in deep dish and wide and with spoon and well fried the egg
I am from there of those who survived
soul of a poet, hugs of lovers, legs of streets and luxuries of ice
I am from there of those who survived
I left Panama with a pure heart. to colon walking with maelo
to get to portobelo and say hello to the Nazarene
I am from there of those who survived
I am the son of Anolan and on foot without a car
I survived by day, survived the night
I am from here of those who survived
I am from there, I am from there, you know that if
Letter by: Alberto Martinez (Paname? O)
Only among all we can make this a better place :)